


sweet chocolate (sweeter kisses)

by Yersina



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Baking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, M/M, ngl the majority of this is chanjilix making cookies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28256256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yersina/pseuds/Yersina
Summary: “Pick up pick up pick up,” Jisung chants quietly, drumming his newly cleaned fingers on the countertop.“Hello? Hannie?”Jisung could cry. “Felix! Thank god! I need your help.”“What’s up?”“Well, I wassupposedto be making chocolate chip cookies,” Jisung explains.
Relationships: Bang Chan & Han Jisung | Han, Bang Chan & Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han & Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	sweet chocolate (sweeter kisses)

**Author's Note:**

> i’d been laid out in bed and exhausted for few days when i wrote this and couldn’t cook or bake things so apparently my brain decided to write this instead to cope!!! 
> 
> sickness aside tho i’ve been wanting to write a baking related fic for _forever_ so if you like this maybe i might write more!
> 
> (as a side note this is partially based on a scene from schitt’s creek. i’ve never actually watched that show but i just wanted to give the heads up in case smth looked familiar!)

Jisung squints at the recipe on his phone, trying to make out the instructions from under the light dusting of flour on top. He would try to brush it off, but he has a feeling that the sticky residue on his fingers would make it worse than it already is. “‘Fold in the flour’—what the fuck does that mean? There’s nothing for me to hold on to—it’s _liquid!”_ The recipe calls for an egg at this point, but the mixture already looks way too runny to be adding anything not solid. 

He frowns at the spatula in his right hand and then at the whisk in his left. He’d used the whisk to combine the ‘wet’ ingredients together—even though they weren’t all wet because he’d added sugar—so he’s inclined to keep using that one, but he feels like he should at least get to use the spatula at some point, right? “How does Felix do this all the time,” he complains to himself, and then he has to rush to wash off his hands because he has an _idea._

“Pick up pick up pick up,” he chants quietly, drumming his newly cleaned fingers on the countertop. 

_“Hello? Hannie?”_

Jisung could cry. “Felix! Thank god! I need your help.”

_“Whose body are we burying?”_ Felix immediately replies.

Jisung pulls his phone back so he can stare at the screen in disbelief. “What?” he asks, bringing it back next to his ear. “Why are there dead bodies all of a sudden?”

Felix laughs. _“Nah, no dead bodies. I just wanted to say that at least once in my life. What’s up?”_

Jisung knows, intellectually, that his friends are on the weird side, but sometimes he realizes that his friends are _weird._ “So y’know how it’s Christmas soon?”

_“Yep yep.”_

“And you know how I told you that last year, Minho did this huge romantic gesture where he cooked dinner for us and it had _courses_ and everything?”

_“You wouldn’t shut up about that for a month,”_ Felix pipes up helpfully and Jisung feels his face catch on fire.

“Uh-huh,” he squeaks through his embarrassment. “Yeah, so I want to do something like that for him this year, except I’m pretty sure if I tried to do anything _near_ that impressive, I’m going to burn down the apartment and myself with it.”

_“Aww,”_ Felix coos. _“That’s cute. So, you’re asking Master Chef Felix for his cooking expertise?”_

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Save me, oh wise one,” he intones flatly. “I have absolutely no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

Felix laughs again, audibly delighted. _“Are you calling because you want a suggestion for what to make or because you got stuck on something?”_

“Well, I was _supposed_ to be making chocolate chip cookies,” Jisung explains, “but the butter was too hard, so I microwaved it, but now I think it’s too soft cause it keeps melting everywhere and now it wants me to ‘fold’ the flour in—Felix, it’s liquid! How am I supposed to fold it if it’s liquid?! Tell me how I’m supposed to fold a _powder_ into a _liquid_ without my kitchen looking like an Impressionist painting.” He adds in a strangled yell to make sure that Felix understands the full extent of his frustration, but Felix sounds too busy laughing to really get it.

Eventually, Felix’s peals of laughter die off and he breathes unsteadily into the receiver. _“It’s really not that complicated, Jisung-ah. You just—well it might be easier to—you know what, it’s probably easiest to just come over there and help you.”_

“Be my guest,” Jisung says bitterly, staring at the puddle of sugar and butter in his bowl that is definitely not anywhere close to the ‘fluffy’ that the recipe calls for. 

_“Be over in fifteen!”_ Felix declares cheerfully and hangs up. 

Jisung sighs and rubs his temples. At least the cavalry is coming.

He spends the next fifteen minutes attempting to get his living space at least somewhat organized and presentable for company, and by the time a request to be let in chimes from the intercom next to his door in conjunction with a text from his phone, he thinks it looks semi-decent. “Come on up,” he says without waiting for a reply and buzzes Felix in. 

Jisung is fidgeting with a stick of butter when a knock comes from the door and Felix sticks his head in. “Heeeey,” he calls gleefully. “Look who I brought!” Chan shuffles in next to Felix, waving bashfully.

Jisung groans. “Great, more people to witness my failure.”

“Well hello to you too,” Chan says drily. “‘How are you doing, hyung?’ Oh, well I’m so happy to be here helping a friend over the holidays, Jisung, thanks for asking.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jisung grumbles, and goes to help them take their coats and get them situated.

“I brought Chan because I’m alright cooking on my own but it goes downhill when I add more people into the mix,” Felix says, waddling cutely over to the kitchen and peering curiously down at his ingredients. “So, what seems to be the problem? Oh.” He pokes at the brown sugar-butter mixture with the whisk. “Huh.”

Chan squeezes in next to them and badly stifles a laugh at the brown sludge dripping off of the whisk that Felix is holding. “Oh, ‘Sungie, you completely melted the butter, didn’t you?”

Jisung crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, the recipe asked for room temperature butter,” he says defensively. “And I’ve never seen room temperature butter, so I figured melted butter was room temperature.”

“I mean, that’s not... unreasonable,” Chan admits. “But room temperature just means that it’s softened.”

“Oh.” Jisung stares at the bowl. “So what should we do, then?”

“You could probably use this for caramel or something,” Felix suggests.

<em>“But</em> since that will involve a lot of sugar at very high temperatures and the possibility of you two setting things on fire,” Chan interjects, “why don’t we just put that back in the fridge.” He plucks the bowl from the counter and shoves it straight into the fridge. Jisung is quietly thankful that their fridge is currently mostly empty and can fit in an entire mixing bowl. “Once the butter firms up a bit more, you can try again.”

Jisung gapes at him. Is it really so simple? “Wow, you’re a genius.” He and Chan exchange high-fives. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“This is why I brought him over,” Felix declares proudly. “Now, do you have more ingredients so we can start over?” 

Between the three of them, they manage to divide the tasks: Chan gets to cream together the sugar and the butter (softened briefly in the microwave for less than thirty seconds this time), given that he’s the only one who reliably works out amongst all of them; Jisung starts measuring out the flour and all the other dry, powdery ingredients; and Felix pre-heats the oven and lines the tray with parchment paper.

“One and a half cups,” Jisung announces as he tips the last measuring cup full of flour into his bowl. “Plus one teaspoon of baking soda and a pinch of salt.” He wrinkles his nose. “I still don’t get why we’re adding salt to the cookies.”

“Because it makes the cookies taste sweeter,” Chan explains patiently, cleaning the whisk off and passing it to Jisung so he can combine the dry ingredients together. “If you don’t add a lot of it, salt helps to enhance other tastes.”

“That’s weird,” Jisung mutters, swishing the whisk around in his bowl a few times. 

Felix just shrugs. “I’ve seen it in enough recipes to believe it. Okay, now add a bit of the flour mixture to the bowl with the eggs and butter and sugar at a time.”

Jisung doles out half of a cup of the flour mixture into Chan’s bowl—which admittedly looks much better than Jisung’s did—and Felix carefully twists the spatula as he incorporates it in, making sure to scrape the sides as he goes. “Is that what they meant by folding?” he asks curiously. He doesn’t see why they couldn’t have just said ‘mix in’ or something equally as simple and less confusing.

“Yep.” Jisung adds in another cup of flour when Felix looks like he’s almost done folding in the first cup, and they go through the whole bowl like that. 

Chan presents the bag of chocolate chips to them with a flourish before the last traces of flour disappear, and Felix snips an opening in the top of the bag before dumping at least half of it in without batting an eye. “Chocolate can’t be measured with a cup,” he tells Jisung seriously, popping a chip in his mouth and chewing happily. 

They all team up to scoop up spoonfuls of dough onto the baking sheet since Jisung doesn’t have an ice cream or cookie scoop, rolling them into passable spheres and plopping them haphazardly onto the tray. 

“Ten minutes.” Felix sets the timer and Chan insists that they spend the next ten minutes cleaning up instead of chilling on the couch like Jisung wants to. 

“If you do it now, you have two people helping you instead of doing it on your own once we leave,” Chan says, raising an eyebrow, and Jisung finally caves. 

As Jisung starts on the dishes and Chan grabs a rag to wipe off the counters, the smell of cookies starts to permeate Jisung’s small apartment and he can feel his stomach give an interested grumble. “Smells good,” he mumbles and grins when Chan bumps Jisung’s hip with his own. 

“That’s our hard work right there,” Felix says, waggling his eyebrows, and grabs the rinsed plate from Jisung’s outstretched hand to dry. 

The timer goes off while Jisung is elbow deep in soap and water, so Felix grabs an oven mitt and pulls out the tray from the oven as Jisung dries his hands on a towel.

“How ill-advised is it that I want to eat one right now,” Jisung says, staring at their tray full of golden brown chocolate chip cookies. Most of them are slightly wonky and a few have run together, but he feels so _proud._

Chan answers for him by carefully scraping one piping hot cookie off of the tray with a spatula and pulling off a piece of it to shove into his mouth. “Ish hah,” he garbles around a mouthful of molten cookie, “buh ish goo.”

Felix snorts at him. “Don’t complain to me about burning your tongue later,” he warns before doing the exact same thing. 

The smell of warm cookies beckons to Jisung temptingly for all of two seconds before he’s following in their footsteps and all at once, he has a bite of gooey chocolate chip cookie in his mouth that’s unfortunately also approximately the temperature of the sun. “Ow ow ow,” he mumbles around his mouthful, and quickly downs a cup of water. 

“Weak,” Felix faux-coughs once he swallows his bite and has to duck the spray of water droplets Jisung flings his way. 

“Children,” Chan starts to say imperiously, and shrieks when Felix shoves a wet hand down the back of his shirt. “What the _fuck,”_ he yells in English, grabbing Felix before he can dart away and sending him crashing to the ground with a few well-placed tickles. 

Jisung gulps nervously when Chan rounds on him, raising his hands in surrender. “That was all Felix,” he says quickly, making a strategic retreat to the living room. “I didn’t do any of that.”

Chan gives an undignified snort and rolls his eyes. “Yeah sure, I believe you,” he says dubiously. “Definitely wasn’t you that started it.”

Jisung beams at him. “See, you get it.”

”Traitor!” Felix yells from somewhere behind Jisung’s kitchen’s cabinets. Jisung just sticks out his tongue impishly, even though Felix can’t see it. 

Despite their inherent combined chaos, Jisung somehow manages to herd Chan and Felix out with minimal fuss and at least three cookies each before Minho gets back from dance practice, shooing them out the door with promises to tell them how it goes with Minho and thanks for dropping by to help him. 

The pleased exhaustion that takes over Jisung’s body after he’s made sure that they’re safely on their way back home drops him onto the couch for the next two hours until Minho comes back, eyes bright and cheeks flushed with cold. “Hey there!” he chirps, hanging up his coat. “Something smells good. Did you make cookies?”

“Oh!” Jisung finally heaves himself up from the couch and slinks into the kitchen after Minho, draping himself over his back and wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist as he examines the cookies still on the baking sheet. “I wanted to surprise you—happy Christmas!”

“Happy Christmas to you too, baby,” Minho says, snagging a cookie and leaning back into Jisung’s arms. “No offense, but I’m surprised that these came out so well. The last time you tried to bake, they were less cookies and more ‘giant sweet crispy blob’.” 

Jisung pouts into the skin of Minho’s neck and gives him an indignant squeeze. “I’m not _that_ bad,” he defends weakly, but even he knows he’s not the best baker, to put it mildly. “Chan-hyung and Felix came over to help me.”

Minho twists around in Jisung’s arms enough to give him an arch look. “And how much did you help them?” he asks. 

Jisung wiggles his fingers into the skin beneath Minho’s ribs once he catches Minho’s dig and watches as his boyfriend collapses onto the ground in a heap of limbs with a choked off giggle. “We split the work evenly, thank you very much,” he says plaintively, ignoring the hand that Minho flails in his direction for help. “In fact, since I’m the one who called them over and delegated the work to them, technically I’m the one who made all of it myself.”

Minho stares up at him, unimpressed. “Uh-huh,” he says flatly. “Sure. Now help me up.”

Jisung gives it a few more seconds before dragging Minho back into a standing position, cookie somehow miraculously still clutched safely in his hand. “Just eat your cookie and enjoy your gift,” he orders, shoving Minho’s hand in the direction of his mouth. 

“Wow, I’m feeling so loved,” Minho quips before taking a bite of the cookie. Jisung feels vindicated watching Minho’s eyes widen in surprise. “Whoa, this is actually really good.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean,” Jisung says with a disbelieving huff of laughter, hitting Minho on the arm. “Of course it tastes good!”

“Mmm.” Coming from Minho, that could either be a sound of contentment from eating the cookie or dubious agreement as to Jisung’s cooking skills. For the peace of his own mind, Jisung decides that it’s Minho enjoying the hell out of his chocolate chip cookie.

He decides to eat another cookie himself, but when he reaches for one, Minho slaps his hand away. “These are _my_ cookies,” he declares, lifting the entire sheet tray off of the counter and holding it away from Jisung, which is entirely unfair.

_“I_ made them,” Jisung retorts, reaching for the tray. Minho only lifts the tray up higher in response.

“And you gave them to me,” Minho says. “So therefore they’re mine.”

“I—” Jisung sputters. This is the worst kind of logic, where there _has_ to be something flawed in the thinking, but he has no idea what. “Give me a cookie!”

Minho makes a great show out of considering the demand. “Only if you do something for me.”

Jisung eyes him warily. “What do you want?”

The self-satisfied grin that makes its way onto Minho’s face makes something click into place in Jisung’s brain. “I’ll give you a cookie if you give me a kiss.”

Jisung rolls his eyes so hard that he nearly makes himself dizzy. “If you wanted a kiss so badly, you could’ve just _said so.”_

He boldly steps forward, inching further into Minho’s space, until he’s staring into Minho’s eyes and nearly close enough to be sharing his breath. “If you drop the cookies, I’ll kill you,” he whispers, before leaning forward and closing the last few inches of distance between them. 

Minho tastes like butter and sugar and chocolate, and Jisung can feel crumbs of cookie still dotting his lips. His cheeks are still cold and wind-bitten where Jisung’s hands come up to cup them, but it doesn’t take more than a second before they begin to warm under his touch. The kiss itself is light and sweet, hardly more than a brush of lips, and yet Jisung still has to fight the urge to flutter his eyelashes as he pulls back. He presses another kiss to Minho’s cheek just to watch the way he bites his lips and widens his eyes just slightly, like the kiss was a pleasant surprise even after so much time together. 

The smile that pulls at Jisung’s lips feels like an inevitability, one that’s echoed in the lopsided grin that Minho sends him. “Can I have a cookie now?” he murmurs into the warm space between them and basks in the delighted laughter that rings out. 

Minho places the tray back on the counter and plucks the closest cookie off the tray, offering it to Jisung with a wink. “A sweet cookie for my sweet boyfriend,” he coos, laughing at Jisung’s unimpressed expression.

Jisung bites into his hard-earned cookie as Minho starts to pull out ingredients from the refrigerator. The taste of chocolate and sugar in Jisung’s mouth _is_ sweet on his tongue, but it’s the sound of Minho’s laughter in the air and the easy tandem between them as they start cooking dinner together that fills his heart with warmth. 

**Author's Note:**

> the cookie ingredients in this fic are based on a [real recipe](https://celebratingsweets.com/mint-chocolate-chip-cookies/)! i substitute out the mint chocolate pieces, but still one of my favorite chocolate chip cookie recipes! 
> 
> happy holidays everyone! stay safe ♡
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/yersin_a) | [tumblr](https://littlenookofnonsense.tumblr.com/) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/yersin_a)


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